Conman Comin'
by obeydontstray
Summary: Never try to fix a mad man. A pwp request from Tumblr...enjoy! BrayXoc


Bray smirked at the uptight brunette as she crossed her legs beneath her, crossing her ankles beneath her chair and unintentionally exposing an extra inch of pale skin from under her skirt. He eyed the pictures in frames on her desk. No children. No husband. Just two aged parents and a dog. Her desk spotless, everything in it's proper place. He turned his gaze back to her and observed that she had no visible flaws. No stray hairs in her perfect updo. No runs in her stockings, no scuffs on her heels. "Mr. Wyatt I don't believe we'll be able to work together." "Can't find which screws are loose in my head, darlin?" He added, watching the familiarity make her shift uneasily. "When was the last time you broke a rule, Miss Keegan?" She looked shocked at the idea, her hazel eyes widening at the suggestion of bad behavior. He glances at her diplomas on the wall, the rows of psychology reference books behind her desk. "I bet you were a top student in class, weren't you?" When she didn't respond he stood, walking slowly towards the door. When the lock clicked, she began wringing her hands in her lap.

"Mr. Wyatt I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave." "And what if I say no?" He teased, closing the space between them. "Are you going to punish me? What happens now that I've broken a rule?" He leaned in close, his lips inches from her ear. "When was the last time you were bad, Miss Keegan? When was the last time you did what society frowned upon?" His warm breath tickled her neck as he laughed, taunting her. "Please leave." She asserted, wiggling from under him and heading for the door. Lightning quick, he blocked access to the door with his big frame. "And what has this office earned you, Cassidy? Devoting your life to trying to fix broken people. I bet when you lay down at night you feel it. A hallow-ness inside. When was the last time you ran barefoot, felt the earth between your toes? When was the last time someone kissed you in the rain?" "Please get out." She mumbled, with much less authority in her voice. "Are you scared of being a bad girl? Does the idea of becoming undone frighten you? When was the last time someone made you moan their name?"

It shocked him when she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a crushing kiss. "Shut up and kiss me, or get out." She mumbled against his lips and he obliged, kissing her hungrily. Tender kisses across her jaw, pausing to nip at her ear. "Yes ma'am." He whispered in his heavy southern drawl before pulling her back towards her desk. With a sweep of the arm he raked everything into the floor, save for the picture of her parents which he set up on the bookcase, silent witnesses to her undoing. In one motion he scooped her up, setting her on the edge of the desk and positioning himself between her thighs. His tongue explored her collarbones and the hollow of her throat as he fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, deciding instead to rip the blouse away and send buttons flying. The motion drew a surprised gasp from her, prompting her to pull his hawaiian shirt from his shoulders and toss it aside. "Doesn't it feel good to be bad?" He asked as he hiked up her skirt, hands exploring the soft flesh of her legs. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" She replied, capturing his mouth in another kiss. With ease he removed her bra, tossing it aside and kissing a trail down her torso. Then, with a wicked smile he hiked up her skirt, caressing her through the thin material of her panties. "Let's see just how much noise you make, little one." He said as he tore her stockings from her body. Her hands grasped the edges of the desk, her knuckles turning white as Bray put his silver tongue to work. Her heels digging into his back and her low moans driving him crazy.

"Take your pants off. Now." She moaned, being turned on even more when he stood and licked his lips. "Yes ma'am!" Bray replied, taking his slow time just to annoy her. She looked so beautiful stretched across her desk, her hair a mess and what was left of her clothing in disarray. Like an offering, just for him. He took time to trace the lines of her body with his fingertips. Warm flesh and cool leather against her porcelain warmth. When he did step free of his pants, he pulled her hips towards him forcefully, pulling her to the edge of the desk. "You're so beautiful. Like fresh clay. Clean, freshly fallen snow. Like porcelain." Sighing, she sat up and covered his mouth with her own. "You really do talk too much." Grasping him at his most intimate, she urged him on. "Enough talking, Bray Wyatt." His blue eyes never left hers as he filled her, standing still to watch her writhe. Her delicate fingers reached for his arms, desperate for him to quicken the friction between them.

His breath quickened as he moved faster, pushing her closer and closer to their peaks. She directed him, moved against him, pleaded with him to hit all the right buttons. She loved the sounds he made as he worked, his pants of exertion as his hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. She covered his mouth again with her own as she felt him nearing the edge, nearing it herself. "Say my name." He commanded as he slowed their motions. "Bray.." "Louder..." He replied. "Bray!" She said as she writhed beneath him, her nails digging into his broad shoulders. The sting, the blood she brought to the surface, it was enough to send him over the edge and pull her along for the ride, leaving them both a starry-eyed mess over her desk. "How does it feel to be real? To feel something?" "You still talk too damn much." She replied with a laugh, pausing to brush his wet hair away from his face.

After dressing himself, Bray stood in her doorway with the smug smile of a conquerer. She struggled to put herself together, to peace back her world that they had just shattered. "So, I'll see ya next Tuesday!" He laughed, pausing to wink at her before leaving the room. He certainly was already looking forward to his next shrink appointment.


End file.
